Schooled

Chapter 9

Monday morning Dylan and Ava were waiting for me downstairs to give me a ride to school. "Want me to look at your car later?"

I looked at him warily. "Don't take this the wrong way, but have you done this before? Or is this just some macho guy thing?"

Ava intervened. "Dylan's actually pretty good with engines. He pretty much rebuilt the Mustang from the ground up, and he used to fix Ethan's bike all the time." Dylan looked slightly surprised she'd backed him up, but it seemed like they were on better terms lately. He turned to me expectantly and I nodded.

"Great. Thanks."

Sure enough, Dylan knocked on the door at eight at night. Ava alerted me to his arrival by shouting up the stairs.

"I'll be right there!"

I pulled on shoes and wrapped a soft sweater around me and went down. Dylan was taking up most of the doorway, and I almost stopped in my tracks at the sight of him.

He was less Abercrombie than rebel today, in a threadbare black hoodie and dark jeans. The combination was striking. With the sun almost down and darkness creeping in, he looked like the kind of guy you wouldn't want to run into in an alley at midnight. But his dark looks didn't scare me. It would be better if they did.

I grabbed my keys off the hook in the foyer and squeezed past where he was standing in the door frame.

"You're like a magic genie. Giving rides, fixing cars."

"Don't get used to it. You'll owe me big time for this."

"I thought we were friends!"

"We are friends. But having been friends for all of four weeks, this goes beyond the call of duty."

"If you can get it running again, you can have anything you want." I said it flippantly. He walked around to the front of the car where he'd left a toolbox.

"Let me at it."

I popped the hood for him, tried starting it. Nothing.

Dylan leaned over, bracing himself with one strong arm as he started fiddling under the hood. I stepped out of the car and closed the door. The stupid convertible had been a bad idea, me rebelling against my mom and Grant as much as buying something I wanted. Another reason not to go with impulse buys. It occurred to me out of nowhere that kissing Dylan that first night had been another stupid impulse.

Thankfully it was fading from my memory the more time we spent together. I could enjoy almost an entire hour in his company without fixating on his hands, or mouth, or anything else. It was progress.

I leaned against the side of the car while he worked. If he didn't know what he was doing, he was a hell of an actor.

Dylan's face was a mask of concentration. His hair fell across his forehead, but for once he ignored it. His hands were strong and sure as they moved.

"Are you just going to watch me?" His voice in the darkness surprised me. I could watch him all night but wasn't about to say it.

"Yup. Consider it my insurance."

I thought I saw a corner of his mouth quirk up, but it was hard to tell in the low lighting. "In that case, will you at least entertain me while I work?"

"Maybe you should be entertaining me. This car fixing stuff isn't my thing." I smiled sweetly as he glanced in my direction.

"What'd you have in mind?"

I thought for a moment. Still not sure he was going to grant me an all-access pass, I figured I may as well start somewhere. I chose my words carefully.